


The Watch: Part One

by bemily (lovewinx)



Series: The Watch [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-08-20 11:44:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20227318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovewinx/pseuds/bemily
Summary: When Emily is seven years old, her grandmother gives her a broken watch with a date and time from the future. This story is basically Pitch Perfect 2 (Part Two will be Pitch Perfect 3) but Bemily. It starts out as Bechloe, but turns into Bemily. Told from Emily's point of view :)





	1. The Watch

**Author's Note:**

> First published story, so "let's not be dicks about it" -Emily Junk, 2015

One of my most vivid memories is from when I was seven years old. I was visiting my grandmother in the hospital, she was on her deathbed. My parents had stepped out for a few minutes, giving me the chance to say goodbye, and right before the heart monitor let out a long, steady beep, causing them to rush back into the room flanked by nurses, she slipped something into my hand.

I had backed up, making way for the commotion to commence, but my palm had instinctively tightened around the cool object. I could tell it was metal, I could tell it was a circle. I didn’t dare look away from my grandmother’s pale face, though, because I was afraid that if I did, she would disappear forever. Little did I know, once I was ushered out of that small hospital room ten minutes later, I would never see her again.

I was stuck in a daze the whole way home. I was staring straight ahead, unblinking, not fully aware of what had just happened. When I stepped out of the car, my parents had gone inside without looking back. Tears were streaming down their faces; they barely even noticed I was still there.

In a way, that was good. It was better than them smothering me and possibly taking what my grandmother had given me. Because when I finally got to my room and looked down at it, my fingers screaming in protest after being curled for so long when I unfisted my hand, I saw the watch that my grandmother wore every single day. The watch that changed my life.

You see, this watch had never had the correct date or time. I remember my father offering to set it time and time again, but my grandmother always refused. When I would ask her why, she would answer, “One day you’ll understand, child. One day you’ll understand.” And that day - Friday, March 19, 2004 - I… still didn’t understand.

I frowned down at the simple silver circle, unsure of what I was supposed to be “understanding.” Why did my grandmother leave me this? Why did she give me a watch that doesn’t work? I know she valued it for some unknown reason, but why should I?

But now, almost twenty years later, as I am curled up on the couch with my fiancee three days before our wedding, I’m glad my grandmother gave me her watch that doesn’t work. I glance down at it, reading “September 15, 2015; 9:12pm,” and smile before hugging Beca tighter. I understand now, and this watch is now my most cherished possession, just like it was for my grandmother.

If I’m going to tell this story right, though, I have to start at the very beginning, and I can’t leave out any details. So make your popcorn and get ready for a long, not-so-wild ride. Let me take you back to seven-year-old me and we’ll just go from there...

I frowned down at the simple silver circle, unsure of what I was supposed to be “understanding.” Why did my grandmother leave me this? Why did she give me a watch that doesn’t work? I know she valued it for some unknown reason, but why should I? It’s just a plain silver watch that never tells the right time.

But as I looked at the time I was so used to seeing, my eyebrows furrowed in further confusion. It was a digital watch, so I had been able to read it quite easily for as long as I could remember, and I knew for a fact that it used to read “November 16, 1949; 3:14pm.” But now it said “September 15, 2015; 9:12pm.” It went from the past to the future.

I debated running into my parents’ room and asking them about it, but I knew that my dad would just insist on setting the correct date and time - if my mom didn’t take it for herself first, that is - so I decided against it. I just clasped the hook around my wrist and pulled my sleeve down over it, not giving it much more thought.

That’s how it went for years. I wore the watch everyday, but I never really thought about it, much less used it. Unless it was September 15, 2015 at 9:12pm, it wouldn’t do me much good, anyway. So the watch drifted to the back of my mind as I poured myself into my schoolwork and singing. I worked hard to get into my dream school and become a part of my dream acapella team: the Barden Bellas at Barden University.

I would feel the pinch of the ruts pulling against my fair arm hair every once in a while, reminding me that it was there, and I would be hounded by my parents to “stop wearing that old thing” almost daily, but I never took it off. Except to shower, of course. It was kind of like that phrase “gone but never forgotten” except “almost forgotten but never gone.” I barely thought about it, but it was always with me.


	2. The Collision

As September 15, 2015 drew nearer and nearer, I started thinking of the watch more and more. I had always been a little superstitious, so a part of me was wondering if some global epidemic would happen that day, or if a nationwide panic would spread, maybe about aliens or earthquakes. But the logical part of me, the booksmart part that I had helped cultivate for years, knew it wouldn’t. Nothing was going to happen on September 15, 2015. Nothing big, at least… Boy, was I wrong.

On May 24, 2014, I started working on my Barden University application. On November 1, 2014, the first day possible, I submitted said application. On April 20, 2015, I got my acceptance letter from Barden University. On April 21, 2015, I started packing and practicing.

I knew I had four months until I moved in. I knew I had four and a half months until I auditioned. But I had worked towards this my entire life, and I was going to make everything perfect. I was determined not to blow it.

My entire summer was spent buying stuff for college and connecting with my roommate, and on August 29, 2015, I moved into Baker Hall. My mom drew the goodbye out much longer than she needed to, but by the time she left, I was buzzing with excitement. Classes started Monday, and I was psyched for my first college class. My roommate, on the other hand, was not. She couldn’t care less. Sylvia was nice enough, though. Not a bad first roommate, especially not for a random matching.

My first day of classes were awful. It really ruined the college hype, to be honest. I woke up late, for one. Then got lost on my way to Intro to Psych, to add to my misfortune. Classes were easier than I had expected, though, so I guess that was a plus side, huh? Another plus side… I saw the Bellas captain: Beca Mitchell. It was from afar - she was smiling and laughing alongside Chloe Beale and I didn’t want to interrupt their conversation - but I saw her. Her small but slender stature, her porcelain skin, her sparkling smile… It was enough to take my breath away.

With my mother being a Barden Bellas alumna, we watched all of their performances. I grew up watching any competition that they were a part of, and we had even gone to a few local ones to watch live. And I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but I had a huge crush on their captain. I'd had it ever since I first saw her in one of their competitions back in 2012. I also knew the choreography to every dance number she had been in, but I would never admit that to anyone, either. Especially not her. At least, that’s what I thought.

The next two weeks went by pretty much the same. I started getting to class on time and figured out the shortest route to each one, my homework was always finished within hours of the class ending, and every day after my second class I caught a glimpse of Beca and Chloe walking to their first. My eyes would follow them across the courtyard, my heart longing to be a part of the conversation, but I always chickened out of saying hi. I would meet them soon enough, though. I was counting down the days until auditions.

On September 11, 2015, the clasp on my grandmother’s watch broke. I hadn’t thought about it in years, but when it clattered to the floor as I was gathering my binders at the end of my Sociology class, my heart stopped cold from panic. I dropped everything and fell to the floor, desperately hoping that it wasn’t broken. “I guess 9/11 is an unlucky day in general,” Benji, a boy who had had an obvious crush on me the entire semester so far, had joked as he leaned on my desk. I ignored him, my heart pounding in my ears.

Relief flooded my veins as I turned the face of the watch towards me. No cracks. And that’s when I saw it: September 15, 2015; 9:12pm. I had completely forgotten the date on the watch; I had only remembered that it was far in the future. But now, it’s not so far in the future…

I skipped my Humanities class that evening to go get the clasp replaced. It was out of character for me to skip a class, but this was urgent, especially with the possible impending doom if my suspicions about what the date and time meant were right. What if September 15 is the Reckoning?

“Do you want me to fix the date and time?” the teenage metalhead had asked.

“No,” I had replied. “Leave it.”

He gave me a strange look, but he left it. The moment he handed the watch back over, I had immediately fastened it back onto my wrist. It had been so long that I felt completely naked without it on, even if thoughts of it barely ever crossed my mind. It was a comfort thing more than anything else at this point.

The metalhead had looked me over, an appreciative glint in his eye. My skin crawled. “How much do I owe you?” I asked, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, a suggestive smirk playing with the corners of his mouth. At his words, I turned and ran out of there.

In my hurry to leave, though, I collided with a short, slender, female body. “I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, my face brightening in embarrassment when I noticed who it was.

“Don’t worry about it,” Chloe had responded, her bright blue eyes twinkling.

I wanted to stay, wanted to talk more and maybe bring up the Bellas and ask if she thought I had a chance - after all, I knew the whole story about how she practically forced Beca to join once she heard her voice - but my nerves overtook my ambition and the redhead took my flustered bewilderment for discomfort. “I’ll see you around,” she smiled, the grin not quite meeting her eyes.

“Great,” I mumbled as she scooted around me and scurried off. “Now she thinks I’m a freak.”


	3. The Audition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in a hot minute but hi i'm back :)

From that moment on, I dreaded auditioning for the Bellas. It was still my dream to get in, but I was terrified of what Chloe’s reaction would be when she saw me. Would she tell the other Bellas about the bumbling idiot that froze up in front of her? Would she tell Beca about the awkward freshman who had knocked into her because she wasn’t watching where she was going?

Those thoughts plagued me for the next two days. But then, September 14, the day before auditions, I was walking across the courtyard after my second class of the day and saw Beca and Chloe heading towards their first. This time, Chloe’s eyes flickered over, connecting with mine. I tensed up, waiting for the whispering to Beca, anticipating the laughter that was sure to come. But what I got left me just as stunned as when I had first bumped into the redhead two days ago: “Hey!” Chloe chirped, even sending me a small wave.

Beca’s eyes flitted over to me, her lips quirking up in her signature smirk, then they were gone. “Idiot,” I chastised myself. I still hadn’t said anything to Chloe. But I still couldn’t keep the smile off of my face. She had recognized me.

The next 24 hours went pretty smoothly. My dread was once again replaced with excitement, and the day of auditions, I skipped into the auditorium ready to blow their minds. I scanned the rows of people, each group obvious: there were the High Notes in the back, the BU Harmonics near the middle but still closer to the last few rows, then the Treblemakers, around the front of the middle. But front and center, where I assumed to see the Bellas… no one.

A flurry of emotions had bombarded me when I realized they weren’t there. They were all seniors, right? Are they discontinuing the Bellas? Is that why they’re not here; are they not taking any new members?

The feelings shot through me, one by one. Shock first, then confusion, then anger. Then back to confusion. No, I thought. They are all too invested in this group to let it disappear like that.

So, riding that wave of confusion and determination, I marched my way to the Bellas’ door.

With every step I took, my heartbeat got faster and faster, louder and louder. By the time I got to their door, I was panicking and anxious and could swear they could hear my heartbeat and heavy breathing from inside the house. What if they didn’t take me? Was it wrong to show up here? Maybe they weren’t at auditions for a reason…

I readjusted my messenger bag and shook out my hands, hoping to shake out some of my anxiety with them, as I pushed all negative thoughts aside. Then, after taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell.

I reminded myself to breathe normally and not hold my breath as I waited for the door to open, and seconds later, it did, revealing Fat Amy who characteristically started to adjust her bra. “Oh, sorry, my boobs are all crazy. I was just jumping,” she said. If it were any other time and tensions in my body weren’t running so high, I would have laughed at that, but my nerves helped me remain focused.

“I, um, just came from auditions. You guys weren’t there. I-I was hoping for the chance to sing for you,” I stuttered, somehow managing to keep my voice confident.

“No, can’t help you,” Amy replied, shaking her head slowly. “We’re not allowed to take anyone else new.”

She started to shut the door in my face, but I quickly blocked it, putting my hand on the green wood and one foot across the threshold. “Oh, no, no, no! Wait, wait, wait! I-I’m a Junk!” I called, hoping someone would recognize the name.

“What’d you say about your junk?” Cynthia-Rose asked, suddenly appearing in front of me. She then motioned with her head for me to enter the house, so I did.

“I’m Emily. Junk,” I introduced myself once all of the Bellas had gathered in the living room and were staring at me with varying levels of interest. “I know it’s weird. It’s my mom’s last name. My dad’s last name is Hardon, so…” The Bellas’ gazes turned confused and slightly uncomfortable, so I decided to just get to the point. “Um… I’m a Legacy,” I said, keeping my eyes on Chloe, the only one I recognized there. “Junk. Junk… My mom was a Bella.”

Suddenly, Chloe’s blue eyes widened and she took a step forward. “Your mother is Katherine Junk?”

“Who?” Stacie asked.

The rest of the Bellas looked just as confused as Stacie, but leave it to Chloe to know her Barden Bellas history. “Only the top bitch of the 1981 Bellas. She pioneered the syncopated booty shake. And word is she has a five-octave vocal range.”

“Yep, still does,” I chimed in. “You do not want to hear that woman doing it with my dad. Whew!”

“What an odd thing to say,” Fat Amy commented from her position spread out on the couch.

“True,” Chloe added. But then she gave me my wish: “If a Legacy wants to audition, we have to let her.” She walked around the end of the couch to take a seat next to Stacie. “Okay, um… Show us what you got.”

My nerves crashed back into me full-force at her words. My eyes scanned the waiting Bellas’ expectant faces as I asked, “Right now? Right here? Right here, right now.” I let out a nervous giggle, suddenly glad that Beca wasn’t there despite having been disappointed a few minutes earlier, then took off my messenger bag and said, “Yeah. Okay, um, I’d like to perform an original song that I’ve been working on. Um, I’m not quite finished with it though, so let’s not be dicks about it.”

The majority of the Bellas’ eyebrows either furrowed or raised at that comment, and my cheeks burned as I continued, “Sorry, that was crass, wasn’t it? Fat Amy, you have a lovely vagina,” before cutting myself off. I always ramble when I’m nervous.

“Thank you. Proceed,” the Australian said with an exaggerated flourish of her hand.

I inhaled deeply, then began my audition. The girls watched with polite smiles on their faces the whole time, but I’ll give it to them: they’re good actresses. I had no idea what they were really thinking.

I went through the song without a hitch, except for the pauses where I explained that I was still tinkering with one of the verses and I wasn’t sure about it yet, but overall, it went pretty well. At least, I thought so.

“Would you excuse us for a second?” Chloe asked the moment I stopped singing. I gave a quick nod and a nervous chuckle, then forgot to breathe and held my breath while I listened to the conversation happening a few feet away from me.

“She’s pretty good. Can we take her?” the redhead started.

“What do you expect us to say? She’s standing right there,” Amy pointed out the obvious. A few of the girls looked over at me, to which I gave a short wave, then the blonde lowered her voice as she went on, “Definitely not a soloist. No…”

“Technically, she came to us, so really we’re not breaking any rules,” Chloe pointed out.

“Yeah, it’s the perfect loophole,” Stacie agreed. I felt my hope rising with each word passed between the group of girls.

“You know, it’s always good to have an extra body,” Flo added. I mentally agreed until she continued, “Just in case one of us gets kidnapped for ransom, is thrown into a shipping container, and is made to eat only leaves and gas receipts.” The rest of the Bellas weren’t phased by this random example, signalling that they had heard things like this before, especially when Chloe said, “Mmm, I agree. We need new blood.”

“I don’t think we should decide anything without Beca,” Cynthia-Rose finally gave her thoughts on the situation, her words being the voice of reason.

“I keep a penny under my tongue,” Lily randomly said. I decided to ignore that bit of the conversation as I continued to eavesdrop on the rest of it.

“Did anyone else think it was creepy that she never really opened her eyes the whole time?” Stacie asked, getting back on track.

“Again, we’re talking about her and she’s standing right there,” Amy sighed, causing a chorus of “Oh yeah”s to echo throughout the room. “But if we’re gonna talk negatives, let’s start with the giraffe legs.”

The discomfort was evident on my face as I shifted back and forth on the soles of my feet. My height has always been an issue for me; being 5’8” in a world full of 5’4”s really takes a toll on someone. I was even bullied for it all throughout middle school and the majority of high school, so Amy’s comment really struck home. I thought I would be accepted and welcomed into this group, but right away my height was once again a target.

I tried to blink back the tears and swallow the hurt as Chloe thankfully steered the conversation away from the negatives about me. “Okay, let’s take a vote on it,” she offered. “Anyone who wants her in, sing a G-sharp. Anyone who doesn’t, sing an E-flat. One, two…”

What I did know was that the vote was unanimous. What I didn’t know was whether I was in or out. That was, until Chloe stood up and walked towards me, face serious, expression unreadable. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other once more, crossing then uncrossing my arms again, and even complimented Cynthia Rose on her shirt until Chloe cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention to her as the room went silent. I watched her lips slowly turn upwards into a smile, relief filling me with every nanosecond that passed, then pure giddiness filled me when she exclaimed, “Welcome to the Bellas!”

“O-M-aca-G!” I shouted, glee filling me. “Whoo!” I did a victory dance that was short-lived due to CR physically moving my hands back down to my sides, then apologized before asking, “So uh, when does initiation start? Tell you what, I’ll go back to my dorm and pretend to be surprised when you throw the hood over my head and make me solve a Rubik’s Cube while sucking vodka from a maxi pad. That’s what my mom said happened.”

Chloe watched me amusedly, her head tilting to the side. I briefly wondered what she was thinking, but then Amy spoke, gaining my attention. “No can do. Look around, we don’t exactly have a maxi pad to spare, so…” She then turned around to face the other Bellas who had dispersed yet stayed close by. “All right, grab your guts, ladies! It’s party time! We’ve got tickets to Copenhagen and a brand new Bella!”

“Come on, girls!” Chloe called as they all left the house.

“Uh, should I, um-” I began to ask what I should do with my things, but then I cut myself off and shrugged as I followed them outside, muttering, “I’m gonna just leave my bag here.”


	4. Meeting Beca Mitchell

It turned out, they were heading to a party. Fat Amy had said it was party time, but it hadn’t really sunk into my innocent, fresh-out-of-high-school mind yet that we were actually going to one. “Wow. My first college party,” I stated somewhat nervously as we entered the Treblemakers back yard.

“Well, this isn’t just any college party,” the Australian informed me as we walked across the grass. “This is acapella only! Yeah, so get prepared to meet a lot of sexually confused men.”

With that, she followed the rest of the Bellas further into the clutches of the swarming mass of acapella singers. After slight hesitation, so did I.

I spent the first half of the party just drifting from one person to the next, trying my best to socialize. I’m an awkward person, so it was hard, but I met a few interesting acapella people that night. I even had to turn down yet another one of Benji’s attempts at asking me out. He’s just as awkward as I am, so the situation was very uncomfortable, but that’s another reason I didn’t think we’d be good together. I needed someone confident to balance me out.

Speaking of confident, right at the peak of the party, I saw her. Beca Mitchell, one of the most confident people I could think of, was getting a drink no more than ten feet away from me. I hadn’t even noticed she had arrived. I mustered up the courage to go over there, then, surprising even myself… I did.

“Hi!” I exclaimed, a bit overly-excited, but Beca didn’t seem too deterred.

“Hi,” she replied, and my heart skipped a beat before taking off. She was talking to me. Beca Mitchell was talking to me.

“I am so excited to meet the woman who single-handedly created the Bella sound,” I gushed like a total fangirl. “We’re sisters! I can’t believe we’re sisters!”

Okay, yeah, so maybe I went a little over-the-top, but at least Beca was nice enough to humor me. At my words, realization even dawned on her face and she gave me a genuine smile. “Oh! Yeah, hi!” she greeted me again, this time more enthusiastically.

“Hi!” I repeated with just as much, if not more, eagerness than before.

“Chloe texted me we added a Legacy. I didn’t even know that was a thing,” she admitted.

I gave a small chuckle, unable to believe my luck: I was talking to Beca Mitchell, and she was actually replying. She was actually talking to me, and not in a creeped out way. She actually seemed interested in me and what I had to say, not that I was saying much. I decided to change that.

But, before I could, a voice from behind me called, “Where were you earlier?” Chloe pranced by me, immediately latching on to Beca’s arm. “I see you’ve met Emily.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca apologized for the redhead’s drunken state as said ginger droned on about missing her girlfriend. “Nice watch, though. Vintage. I love it.”

And then they were gone. I didn’t see them for the rest of the party, so I assumed Beca had taken Chloe home and put her to bed, but her comment about my watch made pride swell up inside me. And then panic.

I frantically checked the time with my phone, expecting a meteor to come hurtling out of the sky at any second. But the watch still read 9:12, and my phone now said 9:14. 9:12 had come and gone, and nothing had happened. “Huh,” I said, frowning down at the worn out device. “I’m not any closer to understanding your importance.”

Later that night, once the party had died down and I had followed the Bellas back to their house, I got to talk to Beca again. She was curled up on the couch lost in her computer, headphones over her ears. The rest of the girls went up the steps, presumably going to their rooms, but I had nowhere to go, so I plopped down on the couch next to Beca.

The older girl froze, causing me to do the same. Before I could panic about whether or not I should leave, though, she slid her headphones down around her neck and turned her head to face me. “Hi,” I mumbled as I shot her a nervous smile.

“Hi,” she repeated, her own smile a healthy mixture of amused and intrigued.

“What are you working on?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me. I had watched interviews where Chloe had teased Beca for not sharing her music with anyone until it was done, and the latter ashamedly agreed with that statement, but a part of me hoped that maybe she would share it with me.

No such luck. The moment my eyes flickered to the screen, Beca slammed the laptop shut, preventing me from seeing what songs she was mashing up, because that’s just what I assumed she was doing. “Just some songs,” the shorter brunette shrugged. Her tone suggested that she didn’t want to talk about them anymore.

I nodded, not sure what else to say, but luckily Beca filled the silence. “I was serious about what I said earlier, you know.” At my confused glance, she elaborated. “Cool watch,” she said, gesturing to my wrist. “Where’d you get it?”

“Oh. Thanks,” I grinned as I felt a blush start to creep up my neck. “It was my grandmother’s.”

“Lucky you,” Beca replied.

“You can borrow it sometime. If you want…” I trailed off, suddenly flustered and confused. I had never let anyone even touch my watch, not even my parents, but then I offered for some girl I just met to borrow it? To say I was bewildered was an understatement.

I suddenly imagined Beca wearing my watch, the shiny silver complimenting the pale complexion of her skin, and for some reason that thought made me okay with giving it to her. It would look good on her.

Beca mumbled something, but I didn’t catch it because I was too lost in my own thoughts. “Huh?”

“Can I see it?” she repeated, an amused smirk dancing on her lips.

“Oh,” I blushed. “Yeah, of course.”

Then, for the first time since my grandmother gave me that watch eleven years prior, I slipped it off and handed it over to someone else.

Beca’s fingers floated over the polished metal; I watched her movements carefully. “Well, the time’s wrong,” she commented a few seconds later. “It seems like it broke not too long ago, too. Around the time we met.”

“Oh, uh, y-yeah,” I stuttered, my eyes slowly making their way back up to her face. “Wait, how’d you know it was when we met?”

She was studying the watch carefully, her expression interested, and I felt myself relax. She wasn’t going to damage it. With that in mind, I allowed myself to examine her features: her flawless skin, her sloping nose, her full lips. The glow of the lamp beside her illuminated her face, the light outlining it almost ethereally. It took my breath away. That was a moment I will always remember.

My blush came back when her eyes flicked up to mine and she caught me staring. A sly smirk took residence on the lips I had been staring at moments earlier. She handed me the watch back, then began to speak. I thought her words would be teasing about how I was staring at her, maybe asking if I saw something I liked, to which my answer would have been “Yes! Definitely,” but no. Instead, she said, “My grandfather had a watch just like that one. It wasn’t digital, though, and it didn’t have the date. Oh, and the time actually worked.” She sent me a lighthearted wink at the end of her words, furthering my blush. “That’s why I was so interested in it.”

“Oh,” I stated, reclasping the watch around my wrist.

“Yeah… And to answer your question, I don’t. I remember when Chloe puked on my new shoes right when we got to the house, which is five minutes from the party. So I’m assuming I met you about seven, eight minutes before my shoes were ruined?”

I laughed. She joined in. We settled into a comfortable silence after that until Beca stretched and let out a small yawn. “I should probably go to bed,” she spoke up after sending me an apologetic smile.

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” I responded. I hated that our conversation was so short, but I knew that I would get to see her a lot more in the future now that I was a Bella, so that abated my desire to get to know her better. “I should probably get back to my dorm, anyway,” I chuckled.

“Dude, no. Just stay here. It’s so late.”

I shifted uncomfortably under Beca’s gaze, unsure of how to turn her down. “I wouldn’t have anywhere to sleep,” I finally settled on saying.

It was no use, though, because Beca’s response was almost immediate. “Just stay in my bed.” When my eyes widened and my jaw fell open a bit, the older girl’s features mimicked mine. “No! Not like that! I can sleep in Chloe’s bed, and you can just take mine,” she rushed to correct her wording, but the earlier suggestion still hung in the air, thickening it with tension. Whether that tension was sexual or not, I was too tired to find out.

“Okay,” I gave in.

Beca sent me an easy smile before leading me up to the room that she shared with Fat Amy. “Okay, so that’s my bed, the one Amy isn’t in, obviously.” I giggled at that, and Beca paused, sending me another small smile, this one more endearing than the last. “I’ll be across the hall if you need anything,” she said before making a move to leave.

“Wait!” I suddenly called out.

“Yeah?”

“Pajamas. I don’t have any.”

Beca pointed me in the direction of her pajama drawer, then she disappeared from the room. I chose an oversized flannel - one that was probably her dad’s because it was even too big for me - and a pair of athletic shorts before sliding into bed. Her sheets were silk, which was unexpected but entirely welcomed, and her pillows were memory foam. The smell of vanilla lingered around me as I nestled deeper into the blankets, a lovestruck smile on my face. If anyone had seen me in that moment, they would have instantly known that I had a crush on the tiny DJ, but luckily, Fat Amy was out cold.


	5. Scouting the Competition

The next morning, I was up and in my classes before any of the Bellas had even woken up. I had worn Beca’s clothes - the ones I had slept in - because I didn’t have time to change beforehand, so after my second class I purposely took the long way back to my dorm, wanting to avoid Beca and Chloe. I had feelings for the alt-girl, but I definitely didn’t want to be the reason that her and Chloe broke up. Wearing Beca’s clothes had helped get Benji off my case, though, seeing as they obviously weren’t mine, so that was good.

The next time I really hung out with the Bellas outside of practice was still a Bellas-related event: the car show. We went to scout out our competition; we couldn’t beat Das Sound Machine at Worlds if we didn’t know what we were up against.

I stood next to Beca the entire performance. It was unintentional, but just like the silk sheets, not unwelcome. Especially because of the unimpressed looks we exchanged at the beginning that eventually turned to worried as the performance kept getting better and better.

At the end of it, DSM came over to talk to us. “Barden Bellas. You came here to see us?” Kommissar asked. “Is it because you are… What do the American kids say, ‘jelly?’”

“We are so not jelly,” Chloe replied, her voice as cold as her expression.

“We should really thank you for making this tour a reality. You know, with your bumbling ineptitude,” Kommissar continued. “We should send them something. Fruit basket? Or would you prefer mini-muffins?”

“Okay, we didn’t come here to start something with you guys. We just wanted to check you out before the Worlds, where we’re gonna kick your ass,” Beca cut in when Chloe came up short of a comeback.

A few of the other Bellas chimed in with their agreement, but as the blonde German took a step towards our captain, I suddenly felt extremely protective. I had the urge to step in front of her, to block her from view and keep her away from further confrontation, but I knew it wouldn’t help anything. Beca is tougher than ten of me combined.

“You?” Kommissar questioned. “You are the kicker of ass?”

Beca’s eyes moved to mine; I just nodded, opting to stay silent. Again, she’s so much tougher than I am. “Well, yeah,” she shrugged, her gaze moving back to the blonde towering over both of us.

“You are so tiny,” she laughed. “Like an elf. Or is it a fairy? Sprite?” She asked a question in German, and the man to her left answered, “Troll.”

“That’s it. You are like a troll.”

Beca’s jaw dropped at the insult, but she quickly recovered. I straightened my back, expecting her to have another great comeback, but my hopes were soon diminished at what she really ended up saying. “You are physically flawless, but it doesn’t mean I like you.”

I stared at the shorter girl, flabbergasted. I knew she wasn’t straight, but does she not have a type, either? Chloe was a short-to-average-sized redhead and Kommissar was a giant blonde. Could she possibly go for a tall brunette somewhere in the middle?

Now is not the time, Emily, I mentally chastised myself as I honed in on the conversation once more.

“We are not scared about the Worlds,” Chloe stepped in, taking over for her flustered girlfriend. Kommissar’s eyes didn’t leave Beca’s as her lips turned up in a smirk, further angering the redheaded co-captain. “When the Bellas hit the stage, we are gonna blow minds.”

That got Kommissar’s attention. Her blue eyes move to Chloe’s. “With what?” the man from earlier asked. “More of Flabby Abby’s baby chute?”

“That’s not my name,” Amy spoke up.

“I don’t know your name. Could be anything. Obese Denise, Inflexible Tina, Lazy Susan.”

“Mein name ist Fat Amy, und I eat krauts like you for lunch,” Amy defended herself, speaking half-German.

He wasn’t phased. “Your team is like a… How do you say that? A heated mess. You know, a mess where heat is applied to it, so what once was a little messy is now even messier.”

“Darlings, please take my advice,” Kommissar took over, her gaze moving back to Beca. I wanted to step between them once more, but again refrained myself from doing so. “Don’t try to beat us. You can’t. We’re the best. And now I really must go rest my neck. It is sore from looking down on you.”

With that, DSM turned and started to walk away. “Okay,” Beca called after them, and Chloe and I both stiffened, knowing her words wouldn’t help us. “Just because you’re making me very sexually confused does not mean that you are intimidating. We have nothing to lose. We have literally nothing!”

“Okay,” Chloe cut in as she put her hand on Beca’s shoulder to calm her girlfriend down. How she could still be so calm after Beca basically said someone else turned her on, I had no idea.

Beca kept going, though. “Aca-wiedersehen, bitches!” she continued, doing an acapella take on the German farewell. I wanted to laugh at her cleverness, but I was too wrapped up in my thoughts about whether or not I had a chance. But, again, I didn’t want to be the reason for her and Chloe breaking up, so that made my wishes tricky.

Right when we got back to campus, we went straight to rehearsals, only stopping to change. “All right ladies, listen up!” Chloe called out once everyone was seated. “We have to beat those German dummkopfs.”

After shouts of approval, Beca started talking. “Okay, we’re gonna beat DSM at their own game. Do what they do, just better.”

“And we’re about to do a full skills assessment to blow out our choreography to match,” Chloe added.

“But!” I cut in. “The important thing is that we have fun, right?”

I immediately regretted my words at my team members’ frowns. “Uh, Legacy, don’t take this the wrong way,” Amy grabbed my attention, making my frown match all of theirs. “But you’re the dumbest person alive.”

Beca shot me a sympathetic glance, but it didn’t help much. I stayed silent for the rest of the rehearsal. At the end, though, I made my way up to the brunette captain, anxiously fiddling with my phone case as I did so. She had been alone to the side working on music the whole time while Chloe worked with us, but she was packing up her equipment, so I took the chance to talk to her before anyone else came over.

“Uh, is it weird that we never got around to singing today?” I asked as I continued to play with the device in my hands.

“Uh, well, it’s, uh, kind of hard to start singing without arrangements, and that’s on me, so… thank you for reminding me,” she shot back.

Her words had a bite to them, but her tone didn’t, so I didn’t take it too personally. “Yeah, Bec, we’re gonna need that ASAP so we can start nailing down our choreography,” Chloe said from my side, appearing out of nowhere.

I shifted nervously as I waited for her to leave. It felt awkward being in the middle of a couple while they spoke - kind of like an actual third wheel. “Right on top of that, Chlo,” Beca sighed, trying to hide the fact that she was stressed to the max.

“Awes!”

“Yeah, awes,” Beca repeated the shortened version of “awesome” back unenthusiastically.

Chloe left after that, but Beca was still zipping up her bag, so I decided to keep talking. “So I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been working really hard on, you know, calming my nerves and keeping my eyes open.” Beca stood up, her phone on and in her hand, but her eyes were on me, so I continued. “Um, I was wondering if you could give me some pointers, maybe. And, you know, with the singing… I don’t really know where you’re gonna put me in the songs, but I-”

“I don’t mean to be rude, I just have somewhere that I need to be,” Beca cut me off, her eyes apologetic. She started to move past me and I felt my face crumble. “Um… you did great today.”

“Thanks,” I said weakly, my hopes of spending one-on-one time with the older girl flushed down the drain.

I turned and watched her leave, but about halfway to the door, she paused with a heavy sigh. I smiled softly, my eyes lighting up as she turned back around to face me. “Okay,” she sighed, taking a few steps back towards me.

“Okay?”

“Meet me at the Bellas house at 6. Come hungry.”

With that, she turned on her heel and sped off. I beamed after her, unable to contain my excitement over seeing the brunette again in four more hours.


	6. Pizza and Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a short chapter but the next one will be a bit longer, and the one after that will be EVEN LONGER, so don't hate me :)

At exactly 6pm that night, I rang the doorbell. Then straightened my shirt out for the hundredth time since putting it on. I had tried on about ten different outfits before finally settling on that one, and I still wasn’t 100% sure about it.

As soon as I finished pulling on the white fabric, the door swung open. Beca was in the same outfit from earlier, looking tired and dishevelled, yet still radiant. “Wow,” she breathed.

I noticed her eyes quickly travel up and down my body before landing on mine, and my cheeks burned as I reached up to fiddle with my necklace. “Too much?” I asked nervously.

“N-No,” she answered, giving me another once-over before widening the door further for me to enter. “You look good. Simple yet chic. I like it.”

I bit my lip and blushed even more as I passed her, inhaling that vanilla scent wafting over me as I did. She shut the door behind me then led me up the stairs. “I thought you said come hungry,” I joked, although my growling stomach wasn’t as lighthearted as I was in that moment.

“I did,” the DJ smirked as she let me into her room before closing that door, too.

I fell onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. Then a warm box was dropped onto my stomach, causing me to squeal in surprise. I quickly sat up and took the box in my hands. “Pizza,” I grinned.

Beca collapsed onto the bed next to me and kicked her feet up into my lap. “Yup,” she said, popping the “p.” “Hope that’s okay. I didn’t feel like actually cooking.” I giggled and started to open the box as she continued, “Plus, if I made something, the Bellas would be all over it. This way it’s just you and me.”

My heart stopped when she said that. Not just my heart, but time itself. “Yeah,” I beamed over at her, my voice barely above a whisper.

She just smirked back at me before kicking my side gently and demanding a piece of pizza. I debated teasing her by not giving her one, but the moment she gave me puppy dog eyes, I caved and handed her the biggest slice.

“So,” Beca broke the silence after we had finished the entire pizza. “You wanted advice.”

“Yes,” I confirmed, nodding my head resolutely.

Beca groaned and sat up. She stretched, her shirt rising up to expose a portion of her midriff, but I averted my eyes until she was done. “Okay,” she sighed as she took her legs off of my lap to cross them under herself. I mimicked her position. “So, I’m gonna be honest with you,” she began.

“Of course.”

“I don’t have any tips, or pointers, or whatever,” she shrugged. “Practice makes perfect, you know? You just looked like I had just kicked your puppy and I felt so bad…”

Despite the disappointment I felt, I still laughed. She smiled, watching me, before adding, “But you can practice here, if you want. And maybe if I do come up with any pointers, I’ll let you know.”

I smiled at her, then nodded. Then, for the rest of the night, which was really until Amy came in the room at 10pm and kicked me out, I sang while she worked on the arrangement with only one ear covered by her headphones. Every once in awhile she would look up at me and smile encouragingly, giving me the confidence to continue as I beamed back at her, practicing keeping my eyes open being the perfect excuse to stare at her.


	7. The Riff Off

“Of course it’s another Riff Off,” Beca groaned. “We never win these things.”

Chloe had already explained what a Riff Off was, so I was all set, but Beca’s words dampened my mood a bit. I didn’t reply, instead opting to go talk to Benji for a bit before the competition started. He had backed off in the dating department ever since I came to class in Beca’s clothes, but he was still a good friend.

In the distance, I could see Beca and Chloe having another altercation with the Germans. Beca looked like she was giving awful, complimentative comebacks again, so I decided not to go over there, not wanting to hear her hit on Kommissar any more. I didn’t know how Chloe did it.

Eventually, though, Chloe pulled Beca away, mouthing, “That’s enough.”

The gong sounded right after that, and I cut through the crowd to the Bellas, making sure to stay in the back like Chloe said. Then, the Riff Off started. Finally, some singing, I thought as we harmonized to the songs, my heart stopping at how beautiful Beca’s voice is whenever it stood out, especially when she soloed on Before He Cheats.

We made it to the top two, but then I blew it. I was chosen to solo, and I froze up and started singing Flashlight. My eyes flickered to Beca’s helplessly as the host menacingly walked up to me. “Just stay calm,” she mouthed, motioning to me that everything was fine.

I nodded and straightened up a bit as he came face-to-face with me, then asked, “What is your name?”

“Emily.”

“Emily. I hate you.”

With that, he turned and walked away before handing DSM the 42G to Dave and Buster’s. Tears welled up in my eyes at his words but I blinked them back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had hurt me. “I’m sorry, guys,” I muttered.

As DSM celebrated, I broke off from the group, still fighting back tears. “Hey, did you really write that?” Beca asked; I hadn’t even noticed she had followed me.

I took a deep breath and shook out my nerves, then opened my mouth to reply, but before I could say anything, Chloe was marching up to us. “You shouldn’t have done that, Emily,” she snapped, arms crossed across her chest, glare shooting daggers through me. “Now DSM thinks that they have the drop on us.”

“I’m sorry. I panicked. I understand if you want me to crawl under a rock and die.”

“Hey, we don’t want that,” Beca soothed, her hand coming up to rub my arm comfortingly. Her eyes shot to Chloe, who hadn’t said anything, and she repeated herself with a bit more force, making me feel slightly better that she was defending me. “Hey, we don’t want that.”

Chloe glared at me again before walking away. “Don’t worry about her,” Beca sighed, still rubbing my arm. “She’ll get over it.”

“Maybe I don’t have what it takes, Becs,” I said.

I averted my eyes from hers when she frowned at me. “Don’t say that,” she commanded, surprising me and regaining my attention.

“What?”

Her stormy blue eyes pierced through mine. “Don’t beat yourself up like that. You’re worth more than that. Act like it, okay?”

Her scowl lifted into a sweet smile, and my heart melted. “O-Okay.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a few more moments, then Beca’s hand snaked into mine. “Come on,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Let’s dance.”


	8. Skipping Class

The next few days were Beca-free, save for rehearsals. Is it possible to be addicted to a person? I’m pretty sure I was, because it got to the point where all I could think about was her. So, after doodling E+B over my notes all day one day, I was fed up.

I got to the courtyard in half my usual time after class, my eyes scanning the expanse of grass for my favorite person. I didn’t have to look for long, though, because soon enough I see her walking towards class with Chloe. “Beca!” I called out, racing towards the couple. “Beca, wait!”

She turned towards me, alarmed. “Hey, are you okay? Slow down there, speed racer.”

I skidded to a stop in front of her, panting for breath. “You go ahead. I’ll meet you in class,” the shorter girl told her girlfriend, and after a worried glance at me, Chloe nodded and rushed off to get there in time. “She’s always so worried about being late,” Beca laughed after her before turning her attention back to me. “So what’s up? You okay?”

I finally regained my breath only for it to catch in my throat again when Beca’s hand rested on my shoulder. Her blue eyes glimmered with concern and my heart rate sped up. When she took a step forward, the vanilla scent washed over me, and all of my senses hit me at once, leading me to do something crazy.

“Skip class with me,” I rushed out, my words all jumbled together from the speed I spit them out at.

“What?”

“Skip class with me,” I repeated, slower this time.

Her hand fell off my shoulder and she glanced back in the direction Chloe walked off in, about to say no, but then I saw something shift in her eyes. She regarded me with curiosity, then… “And what would we do, Miss Junk?”

I beamed. “Anything you want.”

She bit her lip as I held my breath. Then, she nodded. “Okay. I hate Humanities anyway.” My beam grew even wider at her words. It didn’t even falter when she added, “But this was your idea, so you endure Chloe’s wrath. And you pick what we do.”

I had settled on ice cream. You can’t go wrong with ice cream, right? The parlor was about a five minute walk from the Bellas house, so after we dropped our bags inside, we went straight there.

“I think I’m just gonna get vanilla,” Beca said after barely glancing at all of the flavors.

“You would get vanilla,” I mused as I eyed the most colorful one there was: Superman.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beca countered with a smirk.

“You smell like vanilla,” I simply stated.

"Oh? And how would you know what I smell like?”

"Well, for one, I’ve been around you before. And two, I slept in your bed,” I shrugged.

Beca contemplated my answers, then quipped, “Well you smell like flowers, but there’s not a flavor for that, so…”

I grinned at her comment before using her own words against her. “And how would you know what I smell like?”

“Well, for one, I’ve been around you before,” she answered easily with a sly wink before ordering both of our ice creams.

I insisted on paying Beca back for mine, but she repeatedly said that it was only three dollars and that if it meant that much to me, I could just pay for her the next time we hung out. Part of me knew that with that being the deal, she would probably drag me to some fancy sushi restaurant or something so she could eat expensive food for free, but the majority of me realized that agreeing to that meant I would get to hang out with her again, so I nodded and smiled.

We licked our cones in silence for a bit until a question came to mind. “What kind of flowers?” I asked.

“Huh?”

"You said I smelled like flowers. What kind?” I explained.

“Dude, I don’t know,” she laughed before finishing off her cone. “Just flowers.”

"Well, there are some that smell bad and then there are some that smell good. I just don’t want to smell like one that smells bad. Like there’s this flower that’s literally named after a corpse, and you can probably guess why, so-”

“Gardenias,” Beca suddenly cut me off before finding the table very interesting. Then she lifted her eyes back up to mine. “You smell like gardenias. Sweet gardenias, not spicy ones. The ones that smell of coconut and creamy suntan lotion and remind you of long walks on the beach.” Her voice got lower and lower with each sentence. She almost whispered, “That’s the kind of flower you smell like.”

I stared back at her, shocked. I felt my cheeks burning red, the cold chill of the ice cream dripping onto my fingers contrasting the heat of my face. She hesitated, then added, “At first I thought it was azaleas, but then I noticed it was subtler. I had to be really close to you to smell it. So… gardenias.”

My stunned silence continued. After a while of my doe-eyed look and Beca’s uncomfortable one, the older girl decided enough was enough and broke the silence by saying, “Your ice cream is dripping.”

My eyes flickered to the melted Superman in my hand, then back to Beca’s eyes that were still focused on me, then back to the ice cream. Then I excused myself and ran off to the bathroom to wash my hands and splash cool water across my face.

On the walk back to campus that day, I learned that flowers are kind of Beca’s thing. Other than music, of course. She bashfully admitted that she found their meanings interesting and loved the different scents. She even pointed out that the Corpse Flower that I had referenced earlier was actually named Titan Arum; Corpse Flower was just a nickname because of the scent. I wasn’t even mad about being corrected.

Apparently she got that hobby from her mom. She was into the same thing before she died, and it had kind of rubbed off on Beca. We talked about it the whole way back, even delving deeper into what our childhoods were like and what hobbies I had gotten from my own parents. There weren’t much, other than singing.

When we got back to the Bellas house, Chloe was seething. I expected to be dragged inside so that Beca could keep up her bargain of me enduring the redhead’s wrath, but to my surprise, the brunette just said a quick goodbye, shot me a sly wink, then shut the door. I later found out that she had told Chloe I was upset over a boy and needed girl talk and that had gotten her girlfriend to forgive her a bit. When she told me that excuse, I had only laughed.


	9. Convention Performance

Our first performance together was terrible. CR even caught on fire. Songwriting helps me get everything out of my system, so on the bus ride back, that’s exactly what I did.

“Is that for a class?” Beca had asked after about half an hour of silence.

I looked over at her, my foot tapping like crazy. “No, it’s just that when I get stressed, words just sort of flow right out of me, and I try and channel them into my songwriting-”

“Are we just gonna ignore what happened back there?” Chloe interrupted, furious. “Guys, hello? The Worlds are right around the corner and you guys are acting like we didn’t just eat a big bag of- Ahh!”

“Why you yelling at me? I almost burnt to death because of you aca-bitches,” Cynthia-Rose cut in, just as annoyed.

“If you almost died, it was only because you were standing in the wrong spot,” Fat Amy told her, attempting to cast any blame off of herself.

“No, Flo flipped into me!” CR shrieked.

“Sure. Blame the minority,” Flo said, to which CR responded, “I’m black, gay, and a woman.”

“I’m not pointing the finger at anybody,” Amy spoke up again, before doing literally that when she pointed her finger at me and said, “It was Legacy’s fault.”

“Me? Wait, I didn’t-”

“Obviously we’re not gonna beat Das Sound Machine at their game,” Chloe cut me off again, calmer this time. “So, we need a new plan. Like, now.” She stood up, all eyes on her. “At times like these, there’s only one thing for us to do.”

“Fake your own death and flee the country,” Flo offered.

“Close. We’re going on a retreat.”

“Look, I think the retreat will be a good thing,” my mom told me when I had lunch with her the next day. “You girls need to bond heading into Worlds. It’ll be so much fun.”

“I don’t know. No, Mom, it’s bad. It’s… The girls are yelling at each other!” I protested.

“Oh, big deal,” she scoffed. “I remember putting your godmother, Maggie Pistol, in a chokehold because she insisted that George Michael was gay.”

“I’m just afraid that my entire Bella career will be that one terrible performance. I mean, I’ll never get to solo at Lincoln Center. You know?”

“But you’re gonna get to go to Europe,” my mom pointed out. “That would have been the highlight of my college career. And you girls can win it. You have to win it.”

I shrugged, not entirely believing her based on my recent experiences. “You just made being a Bella sound so amazing,” I said.

“And it is amazing. It’s a sisterhood that is gonna support you for the rest of your life. I know you’re not feeling it, but you will. This won’t be the end of the Bellas.”

I had simply nodded, hoping her words were true. Hoping this wasn’t the end of the Barden Bellas.


	10. The Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't posted in a while and Chapter 9 was a short one, so here's another :) two in one dayyy

The next day, we left for the retreat. Beca sat next to me on the way there, but she worked on music the whole way, so I worked on my song the whole way. I was surprised she wasn’t sitting with Chloe, but I didn’t ask.

The entire week was filled with team-bonding experiences and exercises that really pushed our limits. It was awful, but it worked. We got our sound back. Plus, I got to spend a lot more time with Beca. And the other Bellas, of course…

One day, though, there was a fight. Between Beca and Chloe. It started by Beca blurting out, “Sorry, what are we doing?”

“We’re rediscovering our sound,” Chloe answered in a calm voice.

“Are we? ‘Cause it feels like we’re just singing songs that would never go in our set.”

“Beca, come on,” she coaxed, trying to calm her girlfriend down.

“No, none of us know how to beat Das Sound Machine, but I know it’s not gonna be by doing this,” the brunette insisted.

That’s when Aubrey stepped in. “This is just an exercise in finding harmony, Beca. Sometimes you have to break things down before you can build them back up again.”

“I’ve got more important things to do!” Beca exploded.

All of the Bellas except for Chloe, including me, took a few steps back at our captain’s outburst, not wanting to set her off even further. Chloe didn’t seem to care, though, as she interrogated the other girl. “What could be more important than this?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“No, you don’t think that we haven’t all realized you’ve been a little checked out lately?”

“Come on, Beca, just tell her,” Amy said, pushing the smaller girl forward a few steps encouragingly. This piqued my interest.

“I heard that. Tell me what?” Chloe questioned. You could hear tears in her voice. Her eyes flickered to me then back to Beca, and I immediately knew what she was thinking: she thought Beca was cheating on her with me, what with all the time we had been spending together lately.

I backed up even further as the argument continued. “Oh, you misunderstood me,” Amy said, trying but failing to cover up her tracks. “I clearly said…” she trailed off, mumbling unintelligible words.

Chloe shot the Australian a warning glance, but that didn’t stop her. She continued, “Listen, I don’t want you guys to fight. You’re Beca and Chloe. Together you’re Bloe, and everyone loves a good Bloe.”

The two girls ignored her as Beca turned back to her girlfriend, choosing her next words very wisely. “Okay,” she began, her voice back to it’s normal calm, calculated tone. “I’ve been interning at a recording studio and a legit music producer wants to hear my work. God forbid I have something going on outside this group!”

“Okay. So why would you keep something like that from us?” Chloe questioned.

“‘Cause you’re obsessed! You all are! We’re graduating and the only person thinking about life after the Bellas is me.”

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, keeping silent. Of course I had known Beca felt this way - she had mentioned it a few times in passing - but I definitely wasn’t going to let any of them know that.

“What is so wrong with being focused on the Bellas?” Chloe countered. “This has been my family for seven years.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re too scared to leave! Sack up, dude!” Beca exclaimed. I could tell by her eyes when they briefly met mine that she was emotionally exhausted. My heart wrenched; I felt for her.

I wanted to tell Chloe to back off, but that wasn’t my place. On top of that, I didn’t need to add any more fuel to the fire about her suspicions of me and Beca. So, I stayed silent as she accused, “Okay, so you’ve been lying to us for the entire year and now you’re just gonna flake out? Now you’re gonna flake out, when the Worlds is, like, right after graduation?”

“Oh my God!” Beca said through gritted teeth as she clenched and unclenched her fists. “Enough about the Worlds! I can’t- I am out of here.”

She turned to walk away when Chloe jabbed, “Oh, so you’re just gonna leave now?”

Beca whipped around, her stormy eyes blazing. “We all have to eventually, Chloe! It might as well be now!”

“Wait, Beca!” I called out before I could stop myself.

She ignored me, continuing, “If you all knew what was good for you, you’d follow me.”

“Beca!” I shouted louder.

She paused. Her blue eyes flickered to my hazel ones. They were about to move away again, but when I softly called her name once more, pleading with her not to leave, they stayed trained on mine.

“Okay,” she sighed after a moment, making her way over to me. “Okay.”

I smiled softly at her as she came to a stop next to me. My expression was thankful; she rolled her eyes with a small smile in response. Then, she turned to Aubrey. “What’s next?”


	11. The Campfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a really rough day and maybe you have too so here's the next chapter. :)

Something shifted between me and Beca after that. She was by my side pretty much the whole rest of the trip, not that I was complaining. Chloe wasn’t a fan of it, but after their argument, everyone was pretty glad for their time apart. They needed space, and hanging around different people was as much space as they were gonna get here.

On our last night at the retreat, we had a campfire. The conversations were fairly lighthearted at first, but then we got into a more serious topic, which strengthened our new bond even further.

“It’s just everything’s changing so fast and I’m putting all this pressure on myself, you know? I don’t want to fail,” Beca admitted when Chloe finally spoke to her to bring up their argument.

“But if you just would have said something…” Chloe prompted, her voice soft and understanding rather than sharp and rash like it was the other day.

“Yeah, I know, but I’m weird about that stuff,” Beca countered. “I thought I could figure it out on my own and I can’t. Maybe I don’t have anything original to say.” She turned to me, her deep blue eyes darker than usual in the firelight. “I wish I could do what you do.”

I noticed Chloe stiffen a bit, but I ignored it as I said, “Well, I feel the same way about you. You’re so good it’s intimidating.” A small smile appeared on Beca’s face, urging me on, but this time, I addressed all of the Bellas. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be one of you. Not a Legacy, but a Bella.”

There was a chorus of “You are”s and “You are a Bella”s and at the end Fat Amy added, “You paid the registration fee,” making me laugh. Even Chloe’s face softened a bit. Until I turned back to Beca, that is.

“That’s for life, dude,” she told me, her smile adoring. It made my heart stop.

We sat there staring at each other for a while, just grinning and looking into each other’s eyes, until she broke the silence. “Do you wanna collaborate on something?”

My eyes widened. I leaned back a bit, literally taken aback. “Wait. Are you being serious?”

Beca’s expression turned confused. “Yeah…?”

“Yeah!” I exclaimed, beaming. “Wow! Man! Yes! Who else feels like a winner tonight?”

The Bellas cheered. I turned back to Beca, our eyes meeting instantly, and both of our faces melted into soft smiles again. We stayed like that for what seemed like forever but was probably only a few minutes, until Chloe asked, “Beca, can I talk to you for a second?”

The older brunette broke our eye contact and nodded at her girlfriend, then followed her away from the campfire. Not far enough that they couldn’t see us anymore, but just far enough so that we wouldn’t be able to hear what they were saying.

I watched the two silhouettes converse for a while before turning back to the fire, the flames’ dancing reflecting in my eyes. I wonder what they’re talking about, I thought as I tugged my bottom lip into my mouth, chewing on it.

A few minutes later, they returned. My eyes went to Beca’s and hers went to mine, and in that moment I knew that she knew I was asking if she was okay and I knew that she was saying yes. I relaxed a bit when she sat back down, then turned back to the fire, the orange swimming in my pools of green and brown.


	12. The Confession(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this chapter, but here you go :)

Not long after Beca and Chloe had returned, we went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I silently crept out of the tent, careful not to wake anyone up, then started walking along the lake. The moonlight reflected on the water, staining the world a pale blue. It was beautiful.

When I got as far away from the tent as I dared to go, I sat down in the grass and stared out over the lake. I’m going to miss it here, I thought as I took in the scenery. As I stared at the reflection of the moon, I reflected on my experience over the past week.

Suddenly, the memory of Beca and Chloe’s hushed conversation from earlier crept into my mind. I frowned as I thought about it, then started thinking about all of the times I’d had with Beca over the past few months of me being a Bella. I had always had a crush on the girl, but now I thought I was starting to love her.

I unclasped the watch from around my wrist and stared down at it glinting in the moonlight, wishing I could ask my grandmother what the date and time meant. There had been no epidemic, no earthquake, no tsunami… just me and Beca meeting. That’s it.

“Hey,” a soft voice greeted.

I looked up right when Beca sat down, shooting me small smile. “Hey,” I repeated before turning my attention back to the watch.

“You still haven’t gotten it fixed,” she stated, bumping my shoulder with hers.

“It’s actually always said this date and time,” I admitted. “Ever since my grandmother gave it to me, it has said September 15, 2015; 9:12pm.”

“And you’ve never gotten it fixed?”

“Nope.”

I looked over at her. She was staring out over the lake, looking like an actual angel in the pale moonlight. My eyes raked over her features, taking them all in as my heart hammered away in my chest.

Then her head turned. Our eyes met, hazel crashing into blue, and my breath caught in my throat. There was a small sound - did hers catch, too?

I watched as Beca’s eyes roamed over all of my features, starting with my eyes and ending with my lips. Her eyes lingered there for a few moments, just staring at my lips. Then I noticed her start to move forward a bit. “Beca,” I whispered, unsure whether or not that would be a good idea.

Hearing my voice snapped her back to reality. Her eyes moved up to mine, saw the hesitation in them. She leaned back again and turned her face to the water once more. I pouted, not wanting her to look away completely, but also understanding why she did it.

“Sorry,” she muttered, her voice so low that I almost mistook it for a rustling of the leaves.

“I-It's fine,” I stuttered, cringing at my own inability to speak properly around the older girl.

“Are you ever gonna get that watch fixed?” she asked.

“No,” I replied.

She laughed, then. Really laughed, which is rare for Beca Mitchell. Her shimmering eyes met mine, her laughter dancing in them as they stared back at me, and I was overcome with the sudden urge to kiss the laughter off of her lips, connect my mouth to hers, feel the sound echoing within the walls of my chest, my heart.

That, by far, wasn’t the first time I had wanted to kiss Beca Mitchell. But she had a girlfriend. I couldn’t. But even so, I still wished that I hadn’t stopped her moments earlier when she had almost done it.

“What good is a watch that doesn’t tell time?” she asked me, her eyes twinkling.

“It marks the moment I met you.”

I said it without thinking. The words just left my lips without even checking with my brain first, and right when what I had said really registered, I wished I could take it back. She didn’t need that pressure; she didn’t need to know my feelings for her when she already had so many stressful things taking tolls on her.

Beca froze as the words sank in. Her eyes stopped dancing, her lips stopped smiling. Then she gazed down at my own lips again, her eyebrows knit in contemplation, before she sighed and looked out over the water once more.

“No!” I wanted to scream. “Kiss me!”

But I didn’t. I stayed silent, watching her watch the water. Then, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she said, “You’re a breath of fresh air, Em. Promise me you’ll always stay in my life?”

“Promise,” I replied immediately, my heart stuttering at her words.

A pause. “Chloe and I broke up.”

That comment took me by surprise. “Oh,” I said, not having much more to offer.

Beca snorted. “That’s it?”

Her eyes found mine once more. I racked my brain for something to say. “She doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

Beca snorted again. “We both know she’s amazing,” she told me, and I couldn’t argue. It was true.

Blue eyes stayed on me as I stared down at the watch in my hands, my thumb gently tracing the numbers on the screen. After a moment, I said, “You’re amazing too, you know.”

I felt her gaze intensify; I could imagine the storm in those blue eyes raging. But I didn’t dare look up. I didn’t dare get lost in them without having any means of pulling myself back out. “Why do you want to keep the moment we met on your watch, Em?” she asked me softly, beckoning for me to meet her gaze.

I didn’t lift my eyes. I just shrugged, mumbling, “I don’t know.”

The melodious chuckle met my ears almost as soon as the words had left my lips. “I think you do.” I didn’t answer. “Why do you want to keep the moment we met on your watch, Emily?”

A sudden surge of confidence ran through me right then. I gripped the watch tightly, turning my entire body to face Beca, then said, “I like you.”

The smile that broke out across the older girl’s face was priceless. I wished I could take a picture of it, but my phone was back in the tent, so I just settled for capturing it with my mind, committing it to memory. “You do?” she questioned, her voice wavering.

“I do,” I murmured as I stared back at her, my heart almost beating out of my chest.

Beca turned back to the water, smiled. I inched closer, inhaling that sweet vanilla scent. “You smell like gardenias,” she commented, almost as if she knew what I was doing.

“Sweet gardenias?” I asked, a smirk toying with the corners of my lips as I tossed my hair, purposely pushing the smell onto her.

Her smile widened. “You smell like coconut and creamy suntan lotion and remind me of long walks on the beach,” she replied.

She turned her face back to me, neither one of us realizing just how close we were until that moment. My breath caught in my throat, Beca inhaled sharply. I bit my lip, then slowly released it before whispering, “Hey, Beca?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me, too?”

Time stilled as Beca’s eyes studied my features for the second time tonight, the blue orbs twinkling and her smile turning into her signature smirk. Then she got up, stretched, winked at me, and turned to leave. “Beca!” I called after her exasperatedly.

She just turned to face me while she walked backwards. “Yes?”

“D-Do you, um, like me, too?” I asked again, my voice smaller and more in a rush this time, afraid of rejection.

Sensing my anxiety - and hearing it in my voice - Beca slowed to a stop. Her face softened and her smirk turned into another one of those rare endearing smiles before she said, “Yes.”

The smaller brunette then turned around and started walking towards the tent again. “Yes?” I verified, my face hurting from the beam splitting it.

“Yes!” she called over her shoulder before she disappeared into the blackness of the night.


	13. Collab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Valentine's Day... here you go. :)

As it turns out, Beca’s feelings for me were the main reason that her and Chloe had broken up. Chloe suspected they were there, and with just the right push, she had proven them to Beca, as well.

Nothing happened between us, by the way. We stayed friends for a while, teasing and touching and joking and laughing and flirting whenever we hung out, then chatting about nothing and everything late into the night. But, if anyone asked, we were just friends.

That changed when we went to the studio to collab, though. Going in, we were friends; coming out, we were more.

“I mean, we can do… Do you want it…” Beca paused to pick what words she wanted to use, then asked, “Do you feel like you’d want to layer a bunch of voices?”

“I think in the beginning, it could definitely build. Um, I think it starts out light, though,” I replied, impressing even myself by Beca having rubbed off on me enough to actually formulate words for what was going through my head.

“Get your cute butt in the studio, then,” she quipped, smirking at my instant blush. “Don’t tell my boss that we were in here, by the way,” she laughed as I made my way over to the door.

Once inside, I slid the headphones over my ears, unable to believe I was about to record a song in a legit recording studio. “This is… Wow! It’s the real deal,” I said, pointing to the top-of-the-line microphone as I fawned over it.

“Yeah, don’t touch anything, Legacy,” Beca teased, her smirk growing. “You’re very pretty but you seem clumsy.”

I shot her a quick thumbs-up, grinning like an idiot from her compliment, then we started recording.

The session was filled with lots of smiling and lots of laughter. By the end of it, one thing was for sure: I was in love with Beca Mitchell.

“Do you like it?” she asked me once she had finished playing back the finished track.

“Yeah,” I answered, my eyes on hers.

“Really? Because with all your staring, it doesn’t seem like you’re even paying attention,” she poked.

“You did your fair share of staring, too!” I countered as I gripped the armrest on Beca’s chair and pulled her closer. “Remember when I had to restart the song four times?”

“No need to remind me,” she rolled her eyes before kicking the wheels of my chair and sending me flying away from her. “You do things to me, Legacy. Crazy things.”

“Crazy things?” I mocked as I shuffled myself back towards her, watching as she hit a few more buttons on the keyboard.

I rested my chin on her shoulder, watching her type the title of the song. Then, as she was downloading the file onto a flash drive, she turned to face me, displacing my head. I pouted, but her hands on my thighs quickly wiped the frown off my face. “Did you really like it?” she asked, her eyes filled with worry.

“Yes, Becs. It was amazing,” I told her, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

“Really?”

“Really.”

She searched my eyes for any signs of dishonesty, but, finding none, she ended up beaming up at me moments later. She opened her mouth to say more, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I leaned down and I kissed her.

Her lips were soft under mine. They responded immediately, and sparks flew. I smiled into the kiss as I pulled Beca’s chair closer, as close as it would get but still not close enough. With these chairs being the huge office kinds, there was still about a foot of space between our bodies. Too much space.

I pulled on Beca’s shirt next, right above her stomach, trying to get her to move closer. She resisted at first, but after a few more tugs, she finally left her chair to straddle me on mine. That was about as dominating as I got, though, because the moment she was on my lap, I didn’t know what to do. But Beca did, and I was grateful for that.

The senior tilted her head slightly to the side, deepening the kiss, as her hands rested on either side of my neck. I circled her waist with my arms, holding her close, not daring to do anything more than that.

That was it for our first kiss. Rather innocent, if you ignore the straddling, but that was only because our original position was too far apart to be anything but awkward.

When Beca eventually pulled away, both of us gasping for breath, our panting hitting each other’s lips, she rested her forehead on mine, her eyes still closed. Mine fluttered open and I took in her appearance: slightly swollen lips, very flushed cheeks… The only word that came to mind was beautiful.

I wanted to tell her I loved her then and there. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if she was ready to say it back yet, and I would have told her without her needing to feel the pressure of saying it back, but I wasn’t sure if it was too soon or not. I just had too many doubts about timing, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

Instead, I asked, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Beca smiled down at me, her eyes fluttering open.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, then she nodded before reconnecting our lips.

A few hours later, we showed Beca’s boss, Sammy, the song. My fingers laced through hers as we listened to it, her confidence seeping into my bloodstream. When Sammy paused the song, my grip tightened. “Okay, so you produced this?” he asked, pointing at Beca.

My now-girlfriend squeezed my hand encouragingly before answering, “Uh, yes. Emily wrote it.”

“Who’s Emily?”

“I am,” I said at the same time that Beca said, “This tall drink of water, right there.”

“Well,” Sammy began, staring at the computer with the track pulled up on it. “Um… I don’t like it.” Our faces fell. “What it is, is I don’t like it when people can do what I can do. You know, in a manner of speaking, it’s threatening. But, uh, you just did it.”

Both Beca and I were shocked at his words. He continued on to say, “I have a few notes that I assume you’re open to,” to which we immediately said yes, then, “but this is a solid demo with real potential… Yeah, I look forward to working together.”

As Sammy left, he called out, “Good job, Reggie!” to which Beca’s eyes brightened as she whispered, “I’m Reggie.”

The moment the door had closed, I exclaimed, “Oh my God, I was so nervous, I didn’t know what to say!”

I expected her to tease me about how my nerves usually lead to rambling, but she didn’t. She just pulled me into a bone-crushing hug as we celebrated Sammy liking our song.


	14. Graduation and Copenhagen

The very next day was graduation. “We are taking the photo with or without you!” Beca called as the rest of the Bellas all scrambled to fit in the frame.

“Beca!” I chastised from the other side of the camera. My girlfriend just quirked an eyebrow at me in response, daring me to do something to make her stop.

We hadn’t told the Bellas about us yet - we had gotten home so late last night and there was so much graduation commotion today - so I didn’t take the bait. I knew Beca just wanted it to be out in the open, but I also knew that she would respect my decision to hold off on telling them. I just wanted to wait until we found the right time.

My mom knew, though (of course), so when my phone lit up with an incoming call right after I’d snapped a picture of the graduating Bellas, I wasn’t surprised that she asked to speak to Beca. “You weren’t smiling in the picture,” I told her as she fell into step with me on our way to the auditorium.

She just stuck her tongue out at me before saying, “What up, Mrs. Junk?” into the phone, making me giggle.

After graduation, we left for Copenhagen. I slept the majority of the flight, but when I wasn’t sleeping, I was teasing Beca about how much she was sleeping. “You drool in your sleep,” I quipped as we stepped off the plane and onto the wet pavement.

“Shut up,” she grumbled, but that didn’t stop her from clinging to me to stay under my umbrella.

When we arrived at the location for Worlds, my step faltered. “Hey, you okay?” Beca asked, falling behind the rest of the group to gently take my hand.

“You think it’ll work?” I answered her question with a question, staring at the stage.

“It’ll work for us. That’s what matters,” she told me, her thumb rubbing the back of my hand soothingly.

I smile down at her, then up at the stage. “Let’s go,” I said before I could change my mind, then we followed the rest of the Bellas backstage.


	15. Worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter :( but I've already posted the first chapter of Part Two so go check it out :)

Before we went on stage, a panic attack hit me. My windpipes started closing up, I started getting tunnel vision… I sent a frantic glance to Beca, hoping she would get the message. She did, thankfully, because when I got to a secluded area side-stage, she was right behind me.

“Hey, Em. What’s wrong?”

I paced back and forth, nerves racking my body. “I don’t think I can do this, Becs,” I admitted as I tried to shake my anxiety out through my hands the way I always do.

Beca studies me for a moment, then takes a confident step towards me. “Who didn’t see the Bellas at auditions and walked straight to their house to demand to sing?” she asked me.

“Well, I didn’t really demand…”

“Who?” she pressed, ignoring my comment.

“Me,” I sighed.

“And who came over to me after rehearsals and kept talking to me even when my own girlfriend had walked away because I was so stressed?” she questioned.

“Me,” I smiled, thinking back to that first night we hung out on her bed until Fat Amy kicked me out.

“And who convinced her team captain to skip class with her just so they could get ice cream?”

“Me,” I said, my voice rising a bit, a confident undertone being heard.

Beca’s features softened as she took another step forward, closing the distance between us, and put her hands on my hips. “And who initiated the first kiss with her girlfriend - then asked her to be her girlfriend - in the middle of a recording studio after writing a kickass song?” she asked, her voice just as soft and loving as her expression.

“Me,” I whispered as my eyes flickered down to her lips then back up to her eyes.

I really wanted to kiss her in that moment, but she had one more. “And who stole their girlfriend’s clothes on the first night that they met?”

“You knew?” My eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Of course I knew,” Beca responded, throwing her head back laughing. “That was my favorite shirt, dude!”

My cheeks heated up. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Beca finally closed the distance between us, her lips crashing softly onto mine. “Don’t be sorry,” she murmured between kisses. “I’m sure it looks better on you, anyway.”

“Not possible,” I retorted as I pulled the shorter girl closer and reconnected our lips.

Suddenly, there was a chorus of “aww”s from beside us. We jumped apart and turned to find the Bellas staring at us with lovestruck expressions. “Go away,” Beca groaned before she buried her face in my neck to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“When were you gonna tell us?” Chloe asked. She looked a bit jealous and angry, but she was smiling, so I took it as a win.

“At the right moment,” I answered for Beca. “Which I guess is now.”

“When did it happen?” Stacie interrogated, one eyebrow arched.

“During our collaboration,” Beca said, lifting her head from my shoulder. “Now go away.”

The Bellas looked like they were going to protest, but after a stern glance from their captain, they left. I laughed, staring down at my girlfriend lovingly. “They could have stayed,” I reasoned, but she shook her head vehemently.

“No. I have to finish my pep talk,” she pouted up at me. I bit back my comment on how adorable she was as I let her continue. “You demanding that audition got you a spot in the Bellas, Em. You talking to me despite the fact you might have set me off led to us hanging out and eating pizza and you getting that advice you wanted, even though it wasn’t very good.” I laughed, tears forming in my eyes, as she went on. “You coaxing me into skipping class with you got you free ice cream. And you taking the initiative to kiss me and ask me out got you a girlfriend. A shitty girlfriend, but still a girlfriend.”

I quickly wiped the tears from my face and let out another short laugh as I shook my head, silently telling her that she’s not a shitty girlfriend. Her voice softened with her final words. “If you can do all of that, you can definitely do this. You can do anything, Emily.”

“You make me sound so wonderful.”

“You are wonderful.”

I nodded, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you, Becs. I lo-” I cut myself off, swallowing my words. “We should probably get back to the others.”

She just nodded and followed me back onto the stage, an unreadable expression on her face. As we passed DSM, Kommissar made a move to come talk to Beca, but when I slipped my hand into hers and kept walking, the blonde backed off.

“Final performance, guys,” Beca announced when we reached the group, keeping her hand in mine.

“We need to get out there and beat DSM,” Chloe chimed in. “This one’s for us.”

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement, then turned to Amy when she started talking. “Guys, there are gonna be some haters out there. They’re gonna look at us, Team USA, and be like, ‘Why is the most talented one Australian?’ Well guess what? I am fat. So that is close enough.” There were some knit eyebrows and tilted heads at her words, but no one protested. “We are gonna show them who we are! A bunch of ethnically diverse, for the most part feminine, amazing singers!”

“Yeah!” we all cheered, the Australian’s pep talk actually somewhat working.

“Let’s just go out there and ac’ the world!” she finished her speech by shouting, and we all joined in with more cheering before going on stage.

As I was walking onto the stage, though, the hand around mine tightened right when I was about to drop it as Beca used our still-linked hands to pull me back. “Hey, Em?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

And with that, Beca Mitchell released my hand and ran onto the Copenhagen stage to put on the performance that won Worlds, taking my heart with her.


End file.
